


pretty boy

by cbninetyseven



Series: thinking bout you [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Begging, Boys in Skirts, Cussing, Degradation, Dom/sub, Hyung Kink, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinda, M/M, Masturbation, Smut, Submissive Bang Chan, Verbal Humiliation, Whining, basically chris just wants minho to dom him uwu, choking?? kind of???, i've never written smut before so hopefully this is okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbninetyseven/pseuds/cbninetyseven
Summary: chris finds himself thinking about minho.





	pretty boy

**Author's Note:**

> this is,, ridiculously self-indulgent djsjdsh. chris is a sub thank you for coming to my ted talk

this time, chris can barely think to check if the coast is clear.

 

chris always manages to find himself in the most inconvenient of situations. sometimes  chris wonders if he’s doing it on purpose for some subconscious, masochistic reason. and other times he wonders if minho knows. if he catches chris’s not-so-subtle glances at minho’s thighs, or chris staring at his hands and wondering what his fingers would feel like in his mouth, or chris being fixated on minho’s pretty, pretty lips, imagining them doing things chris could never bring himself to say out loud. chris wouldn’t be surprised if minho _does_ know and is going out of his way to wear shorts that show off his legs every day, and letting his eyes linger on chris’s body for a second longer than chris can handle. and, if that’s the case, chris has come to the conclusion that minho is one mean son of a bitch.

 

and chris has also come to the conclusion that he would like that a lot.

 

so here he is. the door to his room not quite closed and the bag he hides under his bed open, the contents spilling out onto the floor, a pleated white skirt haphazardly falling down at his hips, rocking back and forth on his fingers. he barely gave himself time to pull his thigh highs up all the way. minho had (perhaps unwittingly) been particularly cruel today. he’d been experimenting with makeup recently and had been wearing a shiny, glittery red gloss on his lips when chris walked into the bathroom that morning. his shorts hung just low enough for chris to take almost immediate notice and minho had given him a look that made chris’s head spiral as while being affronted by the dirtiest fantasies his mind had cooked up yet.

 

it wasn’t much on its own. but it was enough for chris to stop in his tracks and excuse himself (after allowing himself to get a good look at minho, of course. imaginary-minho was already touching chris’s inner thighs painfully slowly as soon as chris saw him).

 

chris’s other hand finds itself hesitantly settling against his throat. chris isn’t sure where exactly he's going with this, but, to be fair, he never really does. a small whine escapes his lips when his fingers hit a certain spot, his hand tensing and pushing against his throat in response, which just makes him whine more. he imagines minho sitting at the end of his bed, calmly watching chris fuck himself on his own fingers, never quite able to satisfy himself, and quirking an eyebrow just a little at the every hitch of chris’s breath. chris wants minho to completely humiliate him, grabbing him by his chin and asking him if he wants to be fucked properly, calling him a slut when chris undoubtedly nods desperately. chris tugs at his lower lip between his teeth, hissing just a little. the hand against his throat moves to his hair, pulling hard.

 

“minho-hyung,” chris whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut. chris knows he’s close, he’s so hard it fucking _hurts_ , he wants to let go so badly.

 

but he doesn’t let himself. he knows minho wouldn’t want him to.

 

chris pulls at his skirt, rocking faster and faster against his fingers. he keeps hitting that same spot over and over again just to torture himself. he pictures minho tutting, calling him a pretty little slut and ordering him to look at him.

 

“please, please, hyung,” chris whispers, the words barely forming in his mind before blurting them out. he’s not entirely sure of what he wants, but he knows he won’t be given it that easily. so he adds a finger, making the total three. chris throws his head back, whining louder this time. his free hand finds a grip on his unbearably throbbing cock, pulling his skirt up just enough to expose it, the hem falling around the base. he holds it tight, resisting the urge to stroke it up and down. he won’t let himself cum. not without permission.

 

he fucks himself harder, riding his fingers faster. his hair is sticking to his forehead by this point, but he barely notices. he whimpers at every touch, imagining minho kissing him sweetly before pulling away and using those pretty, glossy lips to suck chris off slowly, gently, almost. chris lets himself stroke his tip with his thumb, slowing down with the fingers inside him just a little.

 

“fuck… minho…” chris moans, his voice whinier than ever and chris can barely process that that’s him saying that.

 

his fingers hit _that spot_ again, making chris whine louder than ever.

 

and that’s what makes the feeling that had been building up inside chris finally snap.

 

“hyung-” he whines as he lets himself cum on his stockings. he imagines minho calling him a pretty boy as he does, making him whimper. he breathes heavily for a few moments, letting himself come back to his senses. his head is still spinning.

 

chris wonders if minho heard - or, god forbid, _saw_ \- him fucking himself and moaning his name.

 

deep down, chris hopes he did.

 

chris takes off his skirt, shoving it back in the duffel bag and not even bothering to zip the thing up before pushing it back under his bed. he takes off the thigh highs, bundling them up in the shirt he wore to bed last night. he pulls on the basketball shorts he was wearing earlier, as to not raise suspicion, and walks to the laundry, hopefully-inconspicuous-bundle in hand.

 

he sees minho leaning against the washing machine when he gets there - of _course_ with a smirk on those pretty, glossy lips of his. chris avoids his gaze, gesturing for minho to move before practically throwing the bundle in the machine. he goes to leave before minho clears his throat. chris turns around to see minho motioning for chris to go over to him. chris obliges. he knows he can’t bring himself to disobey minho _(disobey? it’s not an order, chris)._

 

“so,” minho begins, pulling at the waistband of chris’s shorts, “‘hyung’, huh?”

 

chris just nods.

 

“i like that, channie. it’s very cute,” minho says, his hand travelling _dangerously_ low. “maybe we can test it out sometime?” chris nods again.

 

minho’s hand brushes against chris’s cock, pushing chris’s hair out of his eyes with the other. he leans in close, his hand pressed to chris’s throat, pushing just enough to make chris whimper.

 

“maybe another day, channie.”

**Author's Note:**

> so uh,,, yeah. this is the first smutty thing i've ever written (other than this one thing i wrote when i was 12 but that doesn't count because it wasn't super explicit like this) so hopefully it's not awful?? idk but uh i hope y'all like this uwu. blease follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mommyminho) and ask me shit on my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/CBNINETYSE7EN) !! let's be friends !


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